We're only human
by Chemystical
Summary: The team are having a hard time, especially Greg. Can Catherine help him? Meanwhile, an unusual case has the team puzzled. Spoilers for PWF.
1. A dark cloud over the DNA lab

Catherine stood outside the DNA lab for quite some time, observing Greg.  
  
She watched the young chemist perform his usual tasks with seemingly little thought or effort. His lab, usually blaring with loud rock music, was silent, as it had been since the accident.  
  
She was worried about him. His usual vibrancy, and exuberant energy had gone, to be replaced by the weary, miserable appearance he now wore. The enjoyment he seemed to find in his work had vanished, and he usually couldn't wait to leave when his shift had ended. He did his work in silence, and as quickly as possible.  
  
When he talked he seemed like a different person, all usual features of his conversation-joking teasing, laughter- were replaced by an almost bored tone of voice. Catherine felt a pang of guilt.  
  
'He hasn't been the same since the accident.' She thought to herself. But she had a feeling there was more to it than that...


	2. Oops

She finally managed to walk into the lab, but she wasn't looking forward to seeing his tired eyes, eyes once so full of life, now devoid of all their spark.  
  
'Hey Cat.' He mumbled hoarsely, briefly glancing up from his microscope. She realised he must have flu or a sore throat or something.  
  
'Hey Greg, y'ok?'  
  
'Yep. Just finishing something Nicky gave me. With you in a sec.'  
  
Catherine waited, looking around at the walls of Greg's new lab, which of course had already been personalised and splashed with the usual 'Greg- style' that his old lab had to endure.  
  
'So what can I do for you Cat?' Greg enquired .

'Well I was wondering if you had the results of that blue fibre I gave you.'  
  
Greg shifted in his seat.  
  
'Sorry, I have a lot to do at the moment.'  
  
'Meaning you put everyone else's cases before mine.' She snapped angrily, but immediately regretted it upon seeing the hurt look in the lab-tech's eyes.  
  
It's just that she'd been under a lot of stress too. Christmas was coming, and along with the usual stresses that come with the festive season, the entire team had more cases stacked on them than they'd had in a long time. Tempers were frayed, and everyone was losing their cool with everyone.  
  
'No.' Greg snapped, now angry himself.  
  
'Meaning I have a backlog as long as my leg, and as hard as I try, as many hours overtime that I work-even though, I might add, I am not feeling terribly good- I still can't quite manage to swim my way out of the mound stuff you guys dump on me.'  
  
He pushed past her and stormed out the lab.

Sara sat in the break room, nursing a headache and one heck of a bad mood.  
  
Nick came in, his mouth full of the sandwich he was eating, and immediately proceeded to tell Sara the 101 things they had to do that morning, along with what Sara could only understand as something to do with goats (she'd have to ask him about that one though!)  
  
'so.mmmph.we gotta get into..dessert.body wrapped...' Nick began to choke. Sara jumped up and thumped him on the back.  
  
'Jeez,' Nick gasped, slightly winded.

'Sorry. Right now start again. Slo-o-owly.'


	3. The house of cards crumbles

'Greg!' Catherine called out. She'd been searching for him for the last ten minutes. Where could he have got to?  
  
Finally she found him, outside round the side of the building, and immediately a look of concern spread across her face.  
  
He was leaning heavily against the wall, his breathing shallow and ragged.  
  
'Greg?' She whispered, approaching him, 'Are you alright?'  
  
He looked at her blearily, and she quickly rushed forwards, and put her hands on his shoulders to support him.  
  
He collapsed into her, and she managed to gently lay him on the ground supporting his head with her hands. She looked into his pale face, and gently lifted his eyelids seeing that his pupils were dilating. She checked his temperature, and gasped inwardly when she realised that he didn't just have a cold, he was burning up.  
  
Greg's eyelids started to flutter, and she spoke quietly to him.  
  
'Can you hear me? How are you feeling?'  
  
'Where.what happened,' he choked, feeling like his mouth was filled with cotton-wool.  
  
'You just passed out on me. You realise you have a very high fever?'  
  
'Urgh, yeah I was starting to feel a little woozy in there,' He chuckled softly, but winced slightly.  
  
'Easy there.' She said as he gently pulled himself up. 'You should go home.'  
  
'No! I mean I should, but I have so much work, and I you know.'  
  
'Greg.' She said sternly, and Greg laughed, thinking of how motherly she could be sometimes.  
  
'No really Cat, I'll be fine, I just needed a little nap.' He winked at her. 'Thanks for well, you know.'  
  
'Anytime! And by the way, I'm sorry.' He nodded, smiling slightly in acknowledgement.  
  
'Grr,' she thought, 'he can be as stubborn as Grissom.' But she did feel slightly more cheerful having seen Greg making his jokes again.  
  
Granted, he still looked exhausted, but even so, considering he was pretty ill, he had somewhat regained his playful sense of humour.


	4. Catherine's mistake

Catherine was regretting letting Greg stay at work. How could she be so silly? He should be resting, not working furiously as she could see he was doing. Perhaps she should talk to Grissom-Greg would listen to him.  
  
She was just about to turn on her heels and go to find Grissom, when she stopped to take a closer look at Greg. He had not moved for a couple of minutes now, and she realised that his shoulders were shaking gently. Was he crying?  
  
She was shocked-Greg crying was something she thought-and hoped-she'd never see. He was usually such a strong person, or at least he was very good at putting on a brave face, as she suspected he had been ever since the explosion.  
  
Opening the door quietly she saw she was right, he was crying, silent tears that were slipping down his face. He made no effort to stop them. She reached out towards him, and, sensing her presence, Greg quickly spun round on his chair to put his back to her. He hurriedly wiped away the tears, then turned back again, a forced, half-hearted grin on his face.  
  
'Hi Cat what can I do for you?'  
  
'Greg,' Cat murmured sadly. 'Greg, you were.'  
  
'No I wasn't.' He interjected abruptly.  
  
'Greg,' she said sighing, 'I saw you.'  
  
'No, I wasn't.' He said again, with a tone of finality to his voice as he stood up to face her. She decided to drop it; he clearly didn't want to talk about it. But she was wrong.  
  
'Cath...' He looked straight into her eyes, and took a deep breath, as he prepared himself to ask her the hardest thing he'd probably ever had to ask.


	5. A body in the desert

Sara got out of the Tahoe, leaving Nick to gather up their kits. A moment later he joined her side, and they looked out into the dessert together. The sun burnt through their thin T-shirts, and they both pulled on their LVPD caps, to protect their scalps from sunburn.  
  
Their eyes struggled to look through the thick hazy air in front of them, so, as a last protective measure from the sun, they completed their outfits with a pair of sunglasses. They were ready to work..  
  
They crouched down over the beaten body, and Sara shuddered inwardly as she took in the blood crusted over what looked as though it could have once been a handsome face.  
  
'Victim is male, approximately mid-twenties. Looks as though the cause of death was a stab wound through the neck.' Nick stated, mainly to himself.  
  
'I've got some fibre around his cuffs, maybe yarn. I'll have to give it to Greg. Looks like he had his hands tied.' Sara carefully picked a fibre from the man's shirt, and bagged it. Nick was extracting a similar fibre from inside the victim's mouth using a pair of tweezers.  
  
'And gagged.' He added.  
  
Sara frowned.  
  
'There's no blood spatter. This can't have been the scene of the crime. He must have been brought here from somewhere else. If he was already dead, why did they untie him?' Sara was perplexed. This just didn't make any sense to her. This certainly wasn't going to be a textbook case.  
  
'We'll have to take him back to the lab, get a time of death, and then.' Nick stopped, noticing something.  
  
'Sara, look, what's all this blue fluff on him? Strange. I'll give this to Greg too. Come on, let's back to the lab. We have a lot of work to do.' With that he heaved himself up, still deep in thought about this strange and gruesome killing.

Catherine wasn't the only one worried about Greg. Grissom was sat in his office, with a mountain of paperwork (which he just couldn't concentrate on), a killer headache (which he hoped wouldn't turn into a migraine) and a distant look on his face. He was afraid that perhaps Greg had come back to work a bit sooner than he should've. It disconcerted him to see such a lively young man reduced to the nervous shaky wreck he'd been seeing recently.  
  
This couldn't be good for Greg, he was sure, and in fact he was just thinking that maybe he should force Greg to go home and get some rest-he'd never go home voluntarily-when he saw Catherine walking down the hallway towards his office. She looked exactly like he felt, and he knew that this was just going to be a friendly chat about nothing in particular. She walked straight into his office, and up to his desk without closing the door behind her. Wearily she flopped into Grissom's comfortable leather armchair and said,  
  
'Grissom, we need to talk. About Greg.' 


	6. Helping Greg

A few moments previously and Catherine had been in the DNA lab, looking into Greg's saddened eyes. Her heart had gone out to him, and she was determined that whatever he had to ask she would do her best to help him. She still felt she owed it to him.  
  
'Catherine, you know I wouldn't ask this unless it was really important, and I.,' he took a deep breath,  
  
'Oh God, I feel bad asking this when I know that everyone is so stressed but.' He looked so worried, and Catherine had the urge to hug him. She felt a knot forming in her stomach, because for a moment, a brief moment, she thought that Greg was going to quit. A few months ago and this would never have crossed her mind, but recently it was like not only was Greg possibly unhappy working there, but he was even perhaps a little scared. He double and triple-checked all his tasks, tasks which he used to do without batting an eyelash. Toxic chemicals that he used to mix and splash about like water he now handled with a wary frightened look. He had gone from being a confident (and sometimes cocky, she thought with a smile) chemist who knew every bottle and vial in his lab like his close friends, to acting like a nervous freshman who still wasn't sure if mixing sulphuric acid and calcium was a good idea.  
  
'It's OK Greg,' she said soothingly, placing a hand over his now-shaking one. Greg didn't know why he was so nervous. It's just that he was, well ashamed. He knew that he hadn't been working anywhere near up to his usual standards-even five minute analyses were taking him ages, and this frustrated him. And now, admitting what he was about to admit would show him to be even weaker. He didn't want people to think that he was incompetent, but he just knew that realistically, at the pace he was going he would never get all this work done. He had to think about what he was risking, what was at stake. This wasn't about him, it was the cases. So he came out with it:  
  
'Cath I think I need some help. A partner. I just don't think I can do all this, and I don't want to compromise any cases just because I can't get things done on time. I'm trying but I can't concentrate, every time I try I keep thinking.' he was talking faster and faster, he wanted to postpone seeing Catherine's reaction.  
  
But he needn't have, for all that Catherine smiled. The truth was she was relieved, if a little shocked. Why was he so worried? They were all friends, he shouldn't have to be afraid to ask for the occasional favour.  
  
'Greg, it's OK, really,' she said kindly. He looked so upset, she didn't know what to do.  
  
She sat down beside him, and placed her other hand on his arm, trying to steady him.  
  
'We've all been really worried about you Greg. I was going to talk to Grissom about it. I think he wants to send you home Greg.'  
  
Seeing the look of panic flash on Greg's face, she hurriedly added,  
  
'Just for a little bit, perhaps until after Christmas. You could rest, have a nice time, see your family.'  
  
'No! I don't want to go home, I just need a little help. Please Catherine, you need everyone you have at the moment, and all my family are in New York.' He finished sadly.  
  
'OK, I'll talk to Grissom. And Greg, don't feel bad. So you need a little help, it's no big deal. Heck, we could all use some help. No one will think less of you. We just want you to feel better so we can have our old Greg back.' She'd let go of his hands by now, and was getting up to leave.  
  
Greg sat and fiddled with his gloves for a moment. Then, smiling, he took them off and flung his arms round Catherine.  
  
'Thank you so much,' he said, almost tearful with relief.  
  
'Anytime Greg.' She hugged him back squeezing his small frame hard.  
  
'Oh, and Greg?' she pulled back slightly, 'Is that why you were crying. There's nothing else is there?'  
  
Greg beamed, 'Nah,' he said chuckling, 'It's just the fever, and the lack of sleep getting to me. But,' he paused,  
  
'I feel better already.'

'Cause of death was a single stab wound to the neck. Severed the jugular. Judging by the liver temperature he's been dead for about two days. I found some blue fluff, like the stuff you found on his clothes at the back of his throat. He was probably wrapped in something, or smothered, but this wasn't your cause of death.'  
  
Doc Robbins looked at Nick, and saw the young Texan had a slightly puzzled look on his face.  
  
'And the scratches?' Nick enquired.  
  
'Well, he was definitely tortured. The scratches are deep and purposeful, and there's multiple bruising around his body, possibly a baseball bat judging by the size.'  
  
'My God,' Nick murmured. 'Who did this to you buddy?' he asked the corpse.  
  
Then to himself, 'And why?' 


	7. A puzzling case

Nick and Sara were puzzling over their case in the break room. Both had been working for a long time, and were very tired. Sara was trying to apparently drown herself in a bucket of black coffee, and Nick was hitting himself round the head with a book in, Sara assumed, an attempt to keep himself awake.  
  
She'd see his eyelids droop.then-BANG!  
  
Sara, unable to contain herself due to a mixture of stress, exhaustion, and of course the fact that what Nick was doing was somewhat less than normal behaviour, and she burst out laughing.  
  
'What,' Nick asked, looking offended.  
  
'It's.nothing.don't worry,' Sara gasped, wiping the tears of laughter from her cheeks. Man, she really needed some sleep; she was almost hysterical!  
  
'Ah.oooh dear.I'm sorry Nick, it's just.'  
  
'Yeah, I know, but I'm real tired, and this case just doesn't make any sense to me. I'm going to see Greg about that blue fluff and the fibres we found.'  
  
With that he got up and strolled down the hallway to the DNA lab.  
  
'Hey man, you find anything unusual in the fibres at all?' he asked Greg, coming up behind him. Greg hadn't noticed him come in, and suddenly hearing Nick's voice made him jump.  
  
'Jeez, don't do that!' he laughed, then, taking a deep breath said,  
  
'How can I help you?'  
  
Nick noticed the younger man looked very tired, more so than he felt. He wondered the last time Greg actually went home. He certainly hadn't been the same recently, but he wasn't going to ask him about it. He wouldn't have got the chance anyway as Greg quickly started talking again.  
  
'This case of yours is odd. Sara told me the desert wasn't the scene of the crime, and I might just have something that will help you out. Well, it's not really evidence, just a theory. You see, the blue fluff, though I couldn't actually get anything useful from it, no prints or chemical markers or anything, I managed to see how it might have fitted in with your crime. It's looks to me like sleeping bag lining. You know, those thermal insulated ones, all warm and fluffy-just like you feel when you see me in the mornings huh? Well anyway, I sorta figured he might've been wrapped in that. Though why someone would have a thermal sleeping bag in the desert. I don't know. Well good luck, I hope I may have given you something. Oh yeah, and also the brown fibres you gave me are just standard yarn. Couldn't get anything else of them.'  
  
'Thanks Greg.' Nick said distantly, trying to process all the information he'd just been bombarded with. He'd also noticed, that while Greg was being cheerful and jokey he had had a kind of sad look in his eyes. He didn't like it. Not one bit.  
  
Back in the break room, Nick was going over his new findings with Sara, and a strangely un-busy Warrick (hmmm.he'd have to have a word with Grissom about that one!)  
  
'So, Greg reckoned it was a sleeping bag?' Warrick tried to clarify.  
  
'Yeah. Which means we're looking for a pretty bloody sleeping bag.'  
  
'But we have no idea where he was killed. The sand has ruined any tracks we might have had to lead us somewhere, and I've had guys scouring a one- mile radius. Nothing.'  
  
'We just don't have enough information. Why were his hands untied? When? How long has he been in the desert? And the most important thing-who is he? I can't find any missing persons reports that match his description. There was no ID found on him. I don't want to sound too pessimistic too soon, but I think we're coming to the end of the line. Whoever killed him went to great lengths to make sure they left no trace of his identity behind, of anything behind.' Nick sighed.  
  
'I'm guessing the killer knew him, a random killing wouldn't have been this well covered up. And the vic was pretty beaten up. Whoever did this wanted to make him suffer.' A shudder passed through Sara as she said this. She could never understand why someone would want to inflict pain on another person. Why they'd enjoy it. She could understand killings done in the heat of the moment, or someone being shot, where the deaths were relatively quick and painless, and for the most part unplanned or done in an altered state of mind. But cases like this. Slow painful deaths that someone had thought, dreamt about, and planned, then carried out in the most brutal and (she couldn't bear this) pleasurable way possible. Where the victims where like mice, hoping, pleading in vain as a cruel merciless cat toyed with them. Where they were helpless, waiting to die, but being forced to watch as their tormentor savoured their cries for help, their agonised screams for mercy. These were the dark thoughts that plagued Sara's dreams, haunted her thoughts like a swirling fog.  
  
She blinked. She realised that for some time now Nick and Warrick had been trying to get her attention.  
  
'Hey, um, sorry, just slipped into my own little world there.' She laughed meekly. Her mind was still forcing her to think of the last few hours of their victim's life, and the endless horrible possibilities that made up the mystery of how he met his death.

'Sara,' Nick shouted down the hallway a while later. 'Wait up!'  
  
He ran to catch up with her.  
  
'I meant to tell you earlier that I'm worried about Greg. He hasn't been himself lately. Did you ever.you know, talk to him about the accident. I mean, you know, you were there. Oh never mind. It's just I've noticed that he hasn't really been himself lately, and well, yeah.' he trailed off.  
  
'Well I guess I haven't really. Maybe I should. I don't know, we've just never really talked about it. I don't think he's talked to anyone about it. I know I haven't. Grissom tried to get him to see someone, you know right after, because of the shaking and all. But Greg said he was OK. I guess he still feels kind of, well, unsafe.'  
  
'That's what I'm talking about. He's jumpy, and I've seen him shaking. I think he tries to hide it, but I have seen him. I know he's having a hard time. It's stressful for all of us right now, but I just think he's going through a rough time.'  
  
'Yeah.' Sara felt ashamed. Nick was so worried about his friend. HER friend. She hadn't really even noticed.  
  
'But you've been so busy,' her mind told me.  
  
'That's no excuse. Nick noticed.' Her conscience pointed out.  
  
'Well you can talk to Grissom at the meeting. See if he's got any ideas.' She said, trying to shake of her guilt.  
  
'Meeting?' Nick was puzzled.  
  
'The meeting Gris called. The one.' Nick's pager beeped.  
  
'.that Grissom's just paged you about.' She said smirking.  
  
Nick laughed as they rounded the corner to the break room. He saw everyone in there except Greg.  
  
'Uh-oh,' he thought. 'This can't be good.' 


	8. Die versammlung

(A.N Die Versammlung is German for the meeting. No particular reason, only I just wanted to make it a bit more interesting! lol!)  
  
Nick warily entered the room, knowing that this was going to be in some way about Greg.  
  
'Hi Nick. Sara.' Grissom nodded then continued as Nick and Sara sat down,  
  
'As you notice Greg isn't here. What I want to talk about is the fact that he's not having a good time at the moment. Catherine came to me earlier and told me that he wasn't feeling too good. I also know that he's still affected by the accident, and I just don't feel he can do the job as well as he could.'  
  
Seeing the looks of protest from his fellow team mates he added hurriedly,  
  
'Now, we all know that Greg is the best at what he does, just at the moment I think he just needs a little time to regain his confidence.'  
  
Catherine jumped in,  
  
'He just needs our support right now. I know we're all swamped at the moment,' a smile of agreement played on everyone's face,  
  
'But I guess we just gotta remember that Greg's just one person and we do tend to dump all our stuff on him at once. And now that he's not quite regained his usual speed it's a lot harder for him. That's why,' she took a deep breath,  
  
'Grissom and I have decided that we need a new lab tech.'


	9. Some light on the case

'WHAT?!' was the response from everyone.  
  
'But.but.Greg,' spluttered Nick in disbelief.  
  
'Greg.' He repeated as if this were making a point.  
  
'Hang on, hang on. Calm down.' Grissom said, raising a hand.  
  
'I don't mean to replace him. I mean as a partner. Greg will just have someone working with him for a bit. If it works out it could be permanent. We'll just see how it goes.'  
  
'Is Greg OK with this?' Sara asked quietly . 'It was Greg's idea. He asked me this morning. He was in a bad state Sara. I really think this will be a good thing.'  
  
Sara nodded solemnly.  
  
'Come on everyone,' a voice came from the doorway. 'It's not like I'm leaving.'  
  
Everyone turned round to see Greg with a cheeky grin on his face. How long had he been standing there?!  
  
Nick rushed over to Greg.  
  
'I'm sorry man,' he said, and then, surprising everyone, including himself, he flung his arms round Greg. Greg looked surprised for a moment, but then put his arms round Nick as well and gave him a gentle squeeze to show him how much he appreciated his concern.  
  
'Don't worry about it. Thank you.'  
  
Nick pulled back, slightly embarrassed at his public show of emotions.  
  
'Um.I, well you know. It's just.'  
  
Greg laughed.  
  
'I understand, and thanks again you guys. I really think this is going to work out.' He smiled and turned to go back to his lab.  
  
'Right well I think I'd better go and get back to work.' Grissom got up and walked out in the direction of his office. The others looked at each other briefly then followed suit.  
  
'So Greg couldn't give you an ID?' Sara said exasperatedly.  
  
'Nope, DNA matches nothing we have on file.'  
  
'So basically we have nothing.'  
  
'No we don't have nothing.' Grissom said, coming up behind them.  
  
'We have the victim. And if anyone can tell us what happened, he can.'  
  
'Yes, but.'  
  
'We know he was tortured, then brought out to the desert right? The wounds were inflicted upon him by someone who didn't know what they were doing. The stab wound was messy, almost as if it took the killer several attempts to get the knife in the right place. The welts from the whip start off very faint, barely bruising the skin. Yet when covering up the evidence, the killer was flawless. It seems a little strange that someone so inexperienced could pick such a good place to dump the body and cover up his crime. So that got me thinking. What if the killer was trying to copy another crime? I mean when it came to the finer details he obviously had some help.'

'So what, you went on ?' Nick said, slightly rudely, annoyed due to lack of sleep, and unable to see where this was going.

'No, but I did what you should have done before giving up so easily' Grissom retorted, and Nick blushed realising he had been out of line. But Grissom carried on, unfazed. He was becoming more and more animated, which was quite unusual for him, but with a case like this, and under the amount of stress they were, it was hard not to get excited-even for Grissom- about even the smallest of clues. And, this, as it turns out was certainly not small.

An hour later and the team had read through all the reports of cases where torture victims had been dumped in the desert. One particular one described virtually exactly what they had seen themselves, not so long ago that day.

The killer had brutally tortured his brother over an incident involving his wife, then in a panic had used what little wit he had about him to cover up what he had done. For a long time he was a suspect, but he played the grieving brother well and no one could pin anything on him. But a month later he turned himself him, overwhelmed with guilt and grief, and it was determined that while he had gone round with the intention of calmly talking to his brother, his rage had got the better of him, and he couldn't control himself.

'I just wanted to cause him pain.' He said in confession, 'I wanted him to know the pain I felt when he stole my wife.'

He was declared mentally unstable, and was placed in a mental health facility where he later committed suicide.

'So our killer what trying to copy this guy? John Harris.' Sara said the name slowly and carefully, as if she were afraid she might offend someone.

'Well it looks likely.'  
  
'So where does this leave us?' Nick spoke again. 'Anyone could have read the report and thought that that seemed like a good way of finishing off our vic.' His tone was getting sharp again, but he didn't care. 'We still have no idea who the vic is either.'  
  
'I've sent pictures round to everyone. He'll be on the local news later tonight. And I know we got nothing off the body, but it still has secrets. And soon we'll know how to ask the right questions, to get our answers' Grissom said happily, and Nick, once again feeling stupid, realised that he really had given up too easily.  
  
'I have a feeling that while the Harris case was a crime of passion, our killer now merely used his technique to commit a premeditated murder, adding his own little,' though this next part disturbed him, he didn't let it show, 'amusements. Why, I don't know just yet.'  
  
'A feeling? Since when do you go on hunches?' Sara asked cheekily.  
  
Grissom took off his glasses and looked intently at Sara,  
  
'Since I don't have much else to go on.'


	10. Greg finally gives in

Catherine was walking down the hall to check on Greg. She was still worried about what had happened earlier that night.  
  
She was rounding the corner, when Greg stepped out, not looking where he was going. He was running his hands through his hair, and looking down at his feet. The next thing he realised he had collided with something. He looked up and saw Catherine smiling kindly at him.  
  
'God, sorry Catherine, wasn't really looking where I was going.' He smiled weakly at her.  
  
'That's OK! Just coming to see you. You alright Greggo, you kinda scared me earlier!'  
  
Studying his face however, she realised he wasn't alright. However bad he must have been feeling earlier had not really been reflected in his appearance, but in the two hours it had been since Catherine had seen him, that had changed. He might have been able to act cheerful and convince her that he was feeling better then, but this was now completely counteracted by the fact that he quite simply looked like death warmed up. She took in his pale face, overly bright eyes, and limp hair (limp hair on Greg was not a good sign! His hair was usually as far away from lifeless as you could get!)  
  
'God Greg!' she took his hand. It was like clasping an ice-cube. She put another hand on his forehead to feel his temperature. He was even hotter than earlier. She snatched her hand back, pretending she had burnt herself. Greg gave her another weak smile.  
  
'I know.' He said. 'I was just coming to see you. I think I'm going to have to admit defeat. I mean I tried my best, but over the last hour it's just gotten worse. But,' he added hurriedly, 'I'm sure whatever I have is at its peak. I reckon I should be better in a couple of days. I'll be back before you know it.'  
  
'That's OK. Go home. You need to sleep. I'll see you in a couple of days.'  
  
'Thanks Cat. I still feel really bad though. I mean you guys have so much on at the moment, and I'm still way behind. I really would stay if I could, but.'  
  
'Greg!,' she said firmly. 'Don't worry about a thing. We'll find someone to fill in until you get back. Grissom's already phoning around for your assistant. Just concentrate on getting better.' She gave him her best stern mother look, which made him laugh.  
  
'Thanks. See you soon.'  
  
'Bye Greg.'

Sarah sat back in her chair and closed her eyes. Taking a deep relaxing breath she thought how glad she was to have finally finished all her other cases. She's cracked a robbery, Warrick had helped her track down the rapist in a case that almost looked like it had been going nowhere, and Greg had found some valuable DNA on some fibres that had helped her put a child abuse case to rest.  
  
Now all she had to focus on was finding out who their mysterious John Doe was. And why on earth someone would do what they did to him. 


	11. Further developments

The team sat hunched around what little information they had, which was spread across the break room table. All sitting in contemplative silence, they jumped when the door burst open and a triumphant looking Grissom strode in.

'Someone knows our victim.' He said simply, smiling smugly. The team stared at him, gaping, as he waved the photo at them.

'Someone saw him on the news and recognized him. She's flying in from Miami to identify the body.'

'Who is she?' Sara asked eagerly, the half eaten apple she'd been chewing on thoughtfully for the last half hour, now forgotten.

Grissom's smile broadened, 'His mother. She hadn't been expecting him for another week. He was going to visit his family, who all live in Miami...Oh, and the university called-he's a student at LVU, and they started their break a couple of days ago.'

'So the murder was timed well. He had nowhere to be, no-one to wonder where he was. Which again would suggest his killer knew him well....'

They continued like this, brain-storming and debating for what seemed like days, all eagerly awaiting the arrival of the victim's mother, due early the next day. Nick and Sara were to visit one of the victim's teachers, and Warrick would search his dorm-room for evidence. Things were now starting to unfold rapidly, and Nick felt ashamed once again that he had given up so easily. In his frustration he had failed to use his head the way he had been trained so well to do, and he had made complications out of nothing. So this wasn't going to be strictly textbook, but it didn't mean that they wouldn't be able to follow the clues, just like they always did.

He knew he needed to apologise properly to Grissom, but didn't get the chance as the older man suddenly leapt up, and strode over to the door. Turning back to a once-again-confused team, he told them,

'Oh, yeah, the new lab-tech's here, I'll bring him up to meet you.'

_A/N: See, him, HIM!!! This isn't going to end in some romance between the two techs!!! I don't want to be THAT predictable!_


	12. New arrivals

Mrs Noble shuffled aimlessly through the streets of Las Vegas. The millions of lights and dazzling displays of colour that met her eyes did nothing to lighten her mood.

Questions ran through her mind; who would do this to her son, who could be so brutal? She wiped a tear from her eye, wishing intently for someone to ask her is she was ok. But these were the cold, unfeeling streets of Las Vegas, where everyone was just a face in the crowd, no-one had time for your troubles.

That is why she had left, but Graham had never stopped loving the glamour of the city, and against everything she wished for, he returned.

And now he was dead, lying somewhere in the city that didn't care. The city that turned its back as she walked the streets weeping.

The hum of excitement in the break room was barely loud enough to drown out the buzz of nervous anticipation they all were feeling. It was like being back at school, waiting for the new kid to arrive.

_Will he be nice? Will I get along with him?! Or will he laugh at me and throw his sandwiches at me in the playground?!!_

While of course the latter was somewhat dated, they all knew they didn't want, say, another Hodges roaming the lab.

Grissom finally arrived with a youngish, Greg-aged man in tow. He was smiling nervously, and looked somewhat shy (though of course that probably wasn't surprising as he was met with four curious faces peering at him)

_So now sandwiches in the playground then, _they all thought.

One by one they all introduced themselves to the stranger, who informed them his name was Alex.

'But why are you here so soon?' Sara asked, hoping that she didn't sound too rude.

He laughed. Obviously it wasn't.

'Well my boss over at San Fran crime lab owed Grissom here a favour, so as soon as he caught wind of your lab-tech crisis, he packed me onto the first plane here!' He laughed again, this time the team joined him.

All in all they were satisfied. He knew his stuff, was funny, and had a gently air about him. Maybe enough so, they hoped, that he might be able to tame Greg somewhat. But then again, judging by his similarly spiky hair, and slightly scruffy appearance, he could just share Greg's taste in music.

If that was so, God help them all.


	13. Dead ends and new beginnings

The small pile of information that had been gathering on the break room table was steadily, and thankfully growing. Alex had shuffled off to process some day-shift stuff, remaining on standby for anything the team dug up.

Nick and Sara had already met with on of the victim's teachers, who helpfully gave them a list of his friends, along with telephone numbers for each of them. The ball was properly rolling now, and fast.

Warrick was eagerly processing the victim's room, having been given access by the dean of the university, whom he contacted earlier. He knew the victim wasn't likely to have actually been killed in his own room, unlike the Harris case. No, a planned murder wouldn't be that sloppy. He'd have taken him somewhere far away, somewhere no-one would expect. But still, he thought that the killer might have left some evidence of himself in the room, or he could uncover something. Anything...

After much rummaging and searching he found nothing. The victim's belonging, most of which were packed, gave him nothing. Just ordinary clothes, toiletries, books; no notes, messages on his phone, nothing. Nada. He sighed realising the room was going to lead him nowhere, only hoping that Nick and Sara were able to come up with something.

Still feeling somewhat dismayed, he flopped down on the bed, massaging his temples, trying to ease away the beginnings of a headache. He jumped as his pager bleeped, then smiled as he read the message that simply said:

Mrs Noble has arrived.

'Mrs Noble, is this your son?' he asked her gently, lightly touching her arm encouragingly. She winced as his voice echoed through the eerily silent morgue. _This isn't something a mother should have to face twice_ she thought, tears beginning to well in her eyes once more.

She gulped as the coroner pulled back the white sheet. _Oh God. No. _She gripped her eyes shut to block out the horrific sight, and merely nodded, allowing herself to be gently towed away but the kind faced man who had brought her down there. She had known it would be her son, of course it would? What was she expecting? For it to have been some sort of sick joke?

At the door she looked back, seeing Doc Robbins sliding her son, _her baby, _out of sight once more, then she turned back to Grissom and looked into his warm eyes, tears now spilling out of her own, as she let the tears flow freely now.

'I'm going to do everything I can to find out who did this to your son,' he said, as they always do.

She looked back at this man, into his kind eyes and honest faith, yet she still found it hard to find faith in his words.


End file.
